Vanishing Act (13 page)

Nikki, sporting a dark auburn wig with feathery bangs, was dressed as her old cleaning lady, Cleo Kilpatrick, whom Jack had sent on a two-week vacation. Isabelle, wearing a navy business suit, heels, glasses, and a short blond wig, looked just like Kelly Ripa. She could have been anyone—a lawyer, a banker, an executive of some sort. Women dressed like her paraded the streets of Washington every day. Kathryn, her hair bunched up under a ball cap and dressed in jeans, work boots, and a skinny mini tee that showed off her bronzed, muscled arms—seemingly attesting that she worked at something in a man’s world. A tool belt that looked to weigh at least forty pounds was around her waist. She carried the weight well.

Yoko was dressed casually, carried a backpack, and had the credentials of an exchange student from Taiwan. A motor scooter waited for her, and it had a navigator programmed to take her to Harry Wong’s
dojo.

At the foot of the mountain, the Sisters hugged, gave each other a thumbs-up, and climbed into their respective vehicles. Yoko slid onto a powerful Honda motor scooter and was off before the others could even turn the key in their ignition. Then Nikki drove off in an ancient dark green Toyota Corolla, Isabelle in a sleek black Audi, and Kathryn in a white van that said it belonged to the Carpathian Plumbing Company.

Once all the Sisters were in their nests, the plan called for telephone contact only, until told otherwise.

The mission was on.

The German sisters, aka Myra and Annie, pulled their well-traveled suitcases behind them as they made their way down the hall that would lead them to their newly acquired apartment on the eighth floor of the Watergate. Annie opened the door and gasped at the nicely decorated, comfortable apartment Charles had managed on such short notice. “For however long we’re going to be here, Myra, I think we’ll be quite comfortable. I like that the eighth floor isn’t that high up.”

Myra nodded as she walked around, looking at things. While she wouldn’t want to live in a place like this, she could and would adjust for the short-term.

Within minutes, they were unpacked and checking to be sure the computer, the printer, and the fax machine were up and running. Suddenly beeps and whistles could be heard throughout the three-bedroom, three-bath apartment.

Annie smiled. “Avery’s people playing with the electric breakers. They were obviously keeping track of our arrival and gave us some time to get ready. That was number one. Four more, and we hit the hall and do our thing. I think we should be waiting by the door for the fourth surge. That’s when we hit the stairs and walk up to the twelfth floor, so we can do our power walk. The cameras in the stairwells will pick us up, but Avery’s people will erase or adjust the film. When the power goes off completely, we scoot right into Bonnie and Clyde’s empty apartment. Charles said we’ll have ten seconds before the power comes back on for five minutes, time for us to do what we need to do inside and get back out to resume our power walk. That’s the way you see it, right, Myra?”

Myra nodded. “That was three, Annie.” She opened the door and stepped out into the hall just as the fourth power surge caused the hall lights to flicker.

Both women went directly to the stairwell, where they huffed and puffed their way to the twelfth floor and immediately went into their power walk, arms pumping.

“There it is, 1206, and Charles was right, the door is slightly ajar. Slow down, Annie, we don’t want to get too far down the hall.” She looked down at her watch. “Two seconds, turn around,” she hissed. “Now!”

Annie and Myra barreled back down the hall and were inside Bonnie and Clyde’s apartment the moment the windowless hallway went black. Myra counted to ten. The power came back on, and the apartment came to life. Whoever had entered first and left the door open for them must have been the one to turn the lamps on. Undoubtedly they would return and put things back the way they were after Myra and Annie left. The overhead light in the foyer gave off enough light to illuminate the dining area, the kitchen, and the living room.

The apartment was sparsely furnished.

“I don’t know for sure what rental furniture looks like, but I think we’re looking at it,” Annie said, indicating the dark, bland furniture that looked neither comfortable nor fashionable. The women separated, Annie taking the bathroom and bedroom, Myra the kitchen, living room, and dining area. It took only four minutes before the women met up in a short hallway that separated the living area from the bedroom.

“No one lives here, Myra. There’s no
stuff
. Everyone has stuff. Everyone brings something with them from the old place to the new place, even if it’s only a dying plant. There’s always a bit of the past you want to bring with you to the present to remind you where you’ve been. This is just a shell, a cover of some sort. Everything is new, the sheets on the bed still have the creases on them from being packaged, and they smell new. Everything is minimal, drugstore cosmetics, all new. Clyde’s shaving kit and his sundries are new and unused. They forgot to take the tag off the towels. The chest of drawers holds brand-new clothing from JCPenney. Seven of everything. It still smells new. The closet has shoes, they’re new, too. No
DNA
anywhere in this place, and that’s a guarantee.”

“It’s the same thing in the kitchen,” Myra said. “There are four of everything. Nothing extra. Two pots, two fry pans. The refrigerator has a bottle of wine, three bottles of beer, and a six-pack of bottled water. There are two dried-up oranges in the fruit bin. In the freezer there are two frozen TV dinners, a can of frozen juice, no pitcher to mix it in. That’s it. The coffeepot has never been used, and the can of coffee hasn’t been opened.”

“This place is carpeted, but there’s no vacuum cleaner. No cleaning supplies. I don’t think Charles was expecting this. What do you think, Myra?”

“I think you’re right. This place is just a cover. I think like you do, there must be another apartment inside this complex where they
really
live.”

Myra looked at her watch. They both ran to the door and waited for the power to go back out. Just as Myra turned the knob on the door, the apartment went dark. Like the conspirators they were, they raced to the end of the hall. The only light to be seen was the red
EXIT
sign over the stairwell door. Inside the dark stairwell, they waited for the power to come back on before they made their wild scramble back to the eighth floor and their apartment.

Inside, both women collapsed onto a soft, nubby off-white sofa.

Her voice sounding jittery, Annie said, “That was fun, wasn’t it, Myra?”

“About as much fun as a root canal. Do you realize you could live in a place like this for years and never see or know your neighbors?”

The two women waited through three more power surges, darkness, then light before Annie called Charles to report in. “There has to be another apartment here. All your people saw was Bonnie and Clyde exiting and entering the building. They didn’t see which apartment they came out of. Myra and I are tired, so we’re going to bed. That means we will not be checking in during the next eight hours.” Annie rolled her eyes at Myra, and so it was obvious Charles was berating her for something.

In a voice loud enough for Charles to hear, Myra said, “Tell him to sit on it!”

Annie immediately broke the connection.

“I think the correct expression according to Kathryn would be, ‘sit on a pointy stick and twirl around,’ or, in other words, ‘perch, pivot, and rotate.’”

“Whatever,” Myra drawled as she got up and made her way toward the bedroom. “Tomorrow is another day, Annie. Do you have a good feeling about any of this?”

“Actually, I was just thinking about Lizzie and wondering if she’s going to take the job as chief White House counsel. But to answer your question, I’m thinking positive thoughts. It’s going to depend on all of us working together. Think positive, dear.”

“I don’t think she’s going to take the job. She has a new husband, and with all the work we’ve been sending her way, I just don’t see her leaving the work she loves behind, however prestigious the new position is. Lizzie has her own reputation and prestige. She doesn’t need the White House,” Myra called over her shoulder as she yawned elaborately.

Ten minutes later, Myra came out of the bathroom. She was wearing silky pajamas with butterflies all over them, a long-ago birthday gift from Nikki. She sat down on the edge of her bed and looked across at Annie, who was taking off her shoes. “I like it that there are two beds in this room. I hate sleeping in a strange place by myself.”

“Me, too.” Annie yawned. “Myra, wouldn’t it be wonderful if our Lizzie found herself pregnant and had a little girl? A boy would be nice, too, but a little girl is kind of special. I wonder if she’d let us both be the baby’s godmothers?”

Myra started to cry. Annie swiped at her own eyes. “It never goes away, does it, Myra?”

Myra shook her head no. She swiped at her eyes. “We shouldn’t talk about sad things before we go to sleep. Has anyone heard from Maggie?”

Annie reached for a tissue from the box on the nightstand that sat between the two beds. “Not that I know of. I wonder if we should call her and ask her to have her…you know, that person who…uh…
helps
her out from time to time, and ask him if he could somehow find out if we’re right and there’s another residence here at the Watergate that belongs to Bonnie and Clyde. It might take Charles a while to find out. If her person can do it quicker, he doesn’t have to know we asked her. I know, I know, we’re undermining him, but we’re wasting valuable time that could be put to better use if Maggie’s guy can come up with something.”

Myra whirled around. “And you want to do this
now?
I thought you said you were sleepy.”

Annie marched into the bathroom, where she took out her cell phone and called Kathryn, who was staying at Maggie’s place, told her about what they had discovered, and asked her about trying to get Maggie to have her guy find out where Bonnie and Clyde were really burrowing. When she returned, she was wearing a granny nightgown that covered her from head to toe. “I was tired when I said it, but now my brain is whirling and twirling. I just called Kathryn at Maggie’s to bring her up to speed. She said she’d talk to Maggie when she got home.

“I wonder how much money I made at my casino today. Myra, are you listening to me?”

“I am,” Myra said as she massaged a thick, gooey night cream all over her face.

“You should rub some of that on your ass, old girl.”

“Annie!”

“I just said that to wake you up. You look like you’re half in a trance. It couldn’t hurt, you know. That is a rather large encryption you have back there. Block letters, no less.” Annie sniffed to make her point. “I thought we were going for, you know, tiny, delicate—and what do you do? You order up psychedelic colors and block letters.”

“I don’t care to discuss my rear end, thank you very much. I got carried away in the moment. Do I wish I hadn’t done it? Yes. But I’m stuck with it. I have no intention of talking about this ever again.”

Annie wadded up her pillow and threw it at Myra, who in turn threw her pillow at Annie. “Night, friend.”

“Night, Annie.”

J
ack stood back to look at his and Harry’s decorating handiwork. “Done in the nick of time,” he said, shaking his hands in the air. “What do you think, Harry?”

“What I think is I hate you, Jack. When you said pink, I thought you meant pink like a peony. That’s a flower, Jack. My people love peonies. The color is delicate, almost white. This,” he said, shaking his fist, “is fucking
PINK!
Men do not have pink bathrooms. And men do not have pink bedspreads with flowers all over them.”

Jack backed up a step. “And your point is?”

“When you aren’t looking, I’m going to kill you. How can I live with this?”

“We did it for Yoko. Don’t lose sight of that, Harry. Stop being so selfish. At best Yoko is only going to be visiting short-term.
Very
short-term. We did it to make her happy. We did it so she could see your creative, sensitive side. She’s absolutely going to melt when she sees all the trouble you went to. I guarantee it!” Jack said, his voice sounding a little more brave.

“And if she laughs and mocks me?”

Jack danced away. “You are so damn negative, Harry. How do you live with yourself? Just look at everything. It’s
pretty.
Women love pretty. Those rose-scented candles are the topping on the cake. I hope you remember to light them. You need to be suave, Harry.”

“Eat shit, Jack.”

Jack danced even farther away. He dusted his hands together dramatically. “Well, my work here is done. Yoko should be arriving any minute now. That means Nikki is probably already at my house. I really have to go now. I hope you appreciate all the help I’ve been to you. You know, I could have just left you to your own devices. What that means is Yoko would have said she wanted to go to the Hay-Adams. I saved you money. A thank-you would be nice.”

Harry turned, tilted his head. A look of pure panic covered his face. “She’s here!”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“She’s a block away.”

“You expect me to believe you can hear something a block away?”

“No, you’re too stupid to believe that. See, she’s turning into the driveway. She’s here. You need to get out of here.”

“That’s well and good, but your front door is still padlocked, so that means the only exit is over there,” Jack said, pointing to the back door. “Wow, look who’s here! Hi, Yoko! I was just leaving. Did you have a good ride…trip…journey?”

“I did, thank you for asking.” She looked over at Harry and bowed slightly. Harry bowed in return.

“Well, like I said, I was just leaving. By the way, Yoko, before I go, do you want to see Harry’s new…uh…renovations? Come on, let me show you!” Jack was more than careful to keep a good distance between Harry and himself. “Of course when the actual renovations start, I’m sure Harry will ask you for your input. This is just, you know, temporary.”